


"I am his now".

by Thehairshirt



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: ASoIaF Kink Meme, Choking, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 18:44:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1828365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thehairshirt/pseuds/Thehairshirt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the ASOIAF kink meme, prompt: "In which the Bastard of Bolton wants to try out this 'Power Bottom thing' and Theon has no choice but to do as his master bids because...well...you know. "</p>
            </blockquote>





	"I am his now".

**Author's Note:**

> A little bit of a short drunkfic from me, so please let me know if there are any spelling/grammar errors that I missed. 
> 
> I have never written this pairing before, so I don't know how well I captured their dynamic. Will have to go back and read their chapters again, has been too long. Please please please - any suggestions or critique at all are most welcome!

Theon stifled a whimper as he heard the solid click of metal on metal. Someone was coming. He prayed to every god that he could summon the name of within his head while he was alone. Perhaps the gods may answer, delivering to him his sister, surrounded by Ironborn to storm the stone walls that seemingly enveloped him and take him back home over sea and spray, never to return. He fantasised that it would perhaps be Robb and his bannermen, who would use his leverage as the King in the North to free Theon through sheer diplomacy. Even if it was an attack from some Lannister men, attempting to turn Robb’s attention away from their lands and back to the north – anything would be better than the man Theon suspected was entering the dank chamber. 

Theon seemingly hid in the shadows of the bars cast upon his face, as a beam of light streamed into the room and upon his weary face. 

Ramsay.

Theon let out an uncontrollable, ragged sob, wrapping his arms around himself in fear. He was always of a slight build, but fear, torture and a lack of food had already withered away muscle, and his ribs were visible under taught white flesh. Ramsay regarded him with cold, hungry eyes.

“Come along now.” Ramsay said cheerfully, as he unlocked Theon’s cell with a heavy iron key. Theon shuddered, not knowing whether he preferred Ramsay when he was angered or jovial. Theon nodded, unable to speak for the large lump in his throat. He did not know how many days or nights he had been held captive in this horrifying place. It felt like an eternity he had been captured at Winterfell, while his men lay dying in the burning rubble, but perhaps it was not long ago at all. 

Ramsay reached a hand down to Theon as he cowered against the stone wall of his cell.

“I said come along, you wouldn’t want to upset me now, would you?” Ramsay spoke, in his voice that was clear and calm enough to be petrifying. 

Theon took his hand, and gasped uncontrollably as he was pulled to his feet. He was wearing nothing but rough linen, and the dungeons were frighteningly cold. The icy air seemingly bit at his exposed ribs, and he shivered and coughed, although he could not tell whether it was from the cold or from fear.

“Tonight I feel as though I would like to sup in my chambers. You can sit and watch me eat.” Ramsay said, his lips twisted into a smile that was more chilling than the dungeon air. 

“Y-Yes, Lord Bolton.” Theon spoke, fingers still clutching at his ribs, as though feeling their existence was the only way he could confirm his own. He knew Ramsay was a bastard, but called him a lord on his insistence. Theon learnt quickly what going against his new master’s wishes would get him.  
Theon followed Ramsay over stone floors that grew fresher and better kept as they drew closer to Ramsay’s chambers. Theon stared at Ramsays feet, noting their confident stride, and heavy boots made for kicking in teeth.

Ramsay flung open the double doors to his quarters, face still twisted in an unnerving delight. 

“Look at all this food!” He exclaimed merrily, clapping a hand on Theon’s shoulder. Theon flinched, and shook harder than before. There was a great table set with a small feast, and a pale serving girl with stringy hair bowed as the men entered.

“Out.” Ramsay commanded flatly, and the girl obeyed immediately, bowing again before she made haste and left Theon alone with the cruel man.  
“We don’t need servants, do we now?” Asked Ramsay. Theon hated questions like these. He felt as though no matter what the true answer, he would get a kick to the stomach regardless of what he said. 

“Pour me some wine, and you can watch me eat. Keep the wine flowing and you just may earn a scrap or two for yourself.” Ramsay smiled, mussing Theon’s hair in an almost playful way. He suppressed the urge to cringe and nodded and did as he was bid. He had not eaten for what he suspected was many days, which was putting his body through almost as much anguish as the lack of sleep. In that moment, Theon swallowed his pride and realised he would do anything for a morsel of food. Perhaps he was losing himself quicker than he thought. 

He stood near Ramsay, fighting the urge to constantly itch at his wounds, pouring wine whenever a sip was taken. His stomach growled audibly, aching for anything. Ramsay finished, wiping his mouth delicately on a napkin. He brushed his lank hair from his eyes and turned to Theon.

“That tasted even better than it looked. Are you hungry?”

Theon froze, unsure how to answer. 

“Yes, M’Lord, if it doesn’t trouble you –“

“It does actually.” Ramsay hissed, and Theon’s heart sank. 

“I am sorry, Lord Bolton, I am a fool.” He whispered, choking back the sobs that were beginning to shake his body. 

“No matter,” Ramsay replied, to Theon’s slight relief “You didn’t really think I brought you up here to feed you? I require something else of you. You might get some scraps if you’re a good dog.”

“Anything you require.” Theon said. Had the Theon of passed days been witness to this pathetic scene, he surely would have been sickened by the blind submissiveness, but pain and hunger and fear can break a man’s mind quickly, if used effectively.

Ramsay smiled, and leaned back in his chair, unbuckling his belt. He pulled out his cock, which was completely soft, and began to massage it slowly, eyes not straying from Theon’s shaking form.

“Strip.” He said, and watched on with glee as Theon obliged, his slender body was growing weaker, closer to emaciation. He had thick scars of various hues – pink, purple and deep red, running in every direction on his body. Some were from lashes of a whip no doubt; Ramsay himself had carved others lovingly into the pale flesh. Admiring his own handiwork made him grow hard in his hand.

Theon knew what Ramsay was going to ask of him, and he lowered his naked body to his hands and knees, and crawled towards Ramsay. He had his lips moment away from Ramsay’s cock when he felt the familiar gloved hand push his face away roughly, driving tears from his eyes.  
“This time, in the bedroom. Now.” 

Theon rose quickly, nodding dumbly, and followed Ramsay into the bedroom, perching on the end of the bed like a broken bird.  
“Stand up, let me look at you.” Ramsay commanded as he tore off his gloves and threw them to the floor. He looked at Theon’s body again, up and down slowly with heavy-lidded eyes. He descended to his knees, and took Theon’s limp cock in his hands. He grinned devilishly, and began to suck, fitting all of Theon into his mouth at once.

Theon grimaced, and felt his face flush red as his weak body was responding to the familiar touch. Theon was unaccustomed to being touched with any sort of delicacy, and he dreaded that at any moment, Ramsay would reach fourth and strike him, or worse. However, his body could not deny the pleasures of a warm mouth around his manhood, and he felt himself growing hard in Ramsays mouth.

Ramsay pulled his face away, admiring Theon’s body once more. 

“I can see what the girls saw in you. Come now, on the bed we go.”

Theon sat on the bed, cock hard but heart pounding with anxiety, not lust. Ramsay wordlessly undressed. Theon knew what Ramsay would probably want now. He had put it inside of Theon before, and made him howl with pain. Ramsay was not one for a soft, lover’s touch; he much preferred sex when it was like a battlefield, all blood and sweat and screams.

He straddled Theon on the bed, one hand pinning down Theon’s weak shoulder, the other holding his own still-throbbing member. Theon closed his eyes, and began to silently pray again, but gasped with surprise when he felt Ramsay grasping his cock and driving it inside himself. Ramsay shuddered with delight in a way Theon had only seen previously as he had cuts slashed across his delicate flesh. 

“Fuck me, now.” Ramsay commanded, and Theon obeyed, bucking his bony hips roughly upwards. He felt dizzy in his weakened state, but the familiar warmth of having his cock inside another started to take over. 

“Yes, like that. Nice and hard. Fuck me like I enjoy fucking you.” Ramsay grinned, his black hair hanging over his face, hands creeping up Theon’s flat chest and to his throat. Theon kept going despite the growing pressure building on his throat, for he knew this was what Ramsay wanted. 

“Choking makes an orgasm incredible.” Ramsay panted, gripping down harder, the pressure now forcing Theon’s breath to come up in ragged gasps. “Try it.”  
Tears fell from Theon’s eyes now, but he also couldn’t deny the pleasure of Ramsay’s warmth sliding up and down his cock. He gripped the bedsheets with one hand, the other softly resting on Ramsay’s hip, and he thrust upward, harder than before, allowing himself to lose control. Ramsay loosened his grip on Theon’s throat after he climaxed, laughing to himself and stroking his own cock once more. 

“Good work.” Ramsay said, as he slowly pulled away from Theon’s cock, and knelt over his chest. Theon noted that Ramsay never used his name. He was not Theon Greyjoy to Ramsay, merely a body to play with. “I can see why the girls liked your cock, but it’s mine now of course.”

Ramsay sighed softly, and Theon flinched as he felt a hot release from Ramsay over his lips, which he parted to accept the rest down into his throat. Ramsay’s seed was bitter and tasted awful, but perhaps if Theon were lucky, he would be able to soon wash the taste away with a gulp of water and a scrap of food.  
As quickly as he undressed, Ramsay was fully clothed again, and threw the rough spun linen into Theon’s lap before disappearing into the next room.

“You were a good dog, but now it’s time for you to go back to your kennel. Here’s a bone for you, dog.” Ramsay smirked as he returned, with a chicken leg in hand, which he threw to Theon. Theon caught it, and immediately began to gnaw on it. It was half-eaten and quite cold, but it was cooked meat – food. His stomach growled in approval as he licked the grease from his fingers. Ramsay chuckled, and escorted Theon back to the dungeons.

The iron bars clattered together, and Theon watched with a sad, hollow expression as Ramsay left him alone once more. He lay on his side on the cold stone floor with nothing to warm him save for thin linen and his own body heat. He drew his knees to his chest, teeth chattering, and allowed tears to flow freely down his cheeks.

“I am his now.” Theon thought aloud in a whisper. “Forever.”


End file.
